


The Family Dinner Effect

by chamaenerion



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, season 1 alternate fix-it, what's left to say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 00:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15060869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chamaenerion/pseuds/chamaenerion
Summary: Simon invites Raphael to dinner.





	The Family Dinner Effect

**Author's Note:**

> i can't stop thinking about these losers so here's another ficlet, unbeta'd as always
> 
> [[tumblr](http://glitterglamours.tumblr.com/)]  
> go ahead, send me a prompt, i might try to fill it like 3 months from now *drops head to desk*

This was a mistake.

Granted, Simon has been making poor choices left and right the past few weeks. But he really has to hand it to himself - bringing Raphael home for Shabbat dinner is probably the worst decision of them all.

His family is positively _charmed_.

And Raphael, that smug bastard, is laying it on so thick that Simon is half convinced one more smile will be enough to jump start his cold dead heart.

“You never told me you were in marching band, cariño,” Raphael says as Rebecca darts from the table to get the photo album.

Simon plants his elbows on the table, fully expecting his mother’s reprimand, and buries his face in his hands so he won’t have to see Raphael’s raised eyebrows and his smirk and the mirth in his eyes. If he looks, he won’t be able to stop, and the words currently caught in his throat will come pouring out like they always do and he can’t-

A hand lands on the back of his neck, and how is Raphael so warm he’s dead for G-- fuck’s sake and his thumb strokes through the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s nice and Simon’s traitorous shoulders relax automatically before he jumps to his feet in a move that is slightly too fast for anyone’s comfort.

“I-” he coughs a little, trying and failing not to look completely freaked. “I need some water… can we talk for a minute out- in… in the kitchen?” And without waiting for a response he darts from the room.

“Simon?” Raphael is immediately at his side. “Is it too much?” his voice is low in the space between them.

Simon knows he’s asking about the bloodlust, but that’s the furthest thing from his mind.

He finally looks up to meet Raphael’s eyes, sees the concern and the warmth that has been there all night. “Yes,” he says, and he grabs the sleeve of Raphael’s jacket with a shaky hand.

Raphael nods. “We can lea-”

“Can I kiss you?” Simon slaps a hand over his own mouth so hard it echoes off the kitchen walls.

“What?” Raphael asks, face gone blank. It’s not right, not after an evening spent watching him laugh and smile and-

Simon’s brain grinds to a halt and all that’s left is the memory of his grandmother telling him, when she found out about his band, that she was happy he found what makes him happy because most people had no idea and spent their lives searching.

He had that feeling now, of being on stage in front of a group of strangers in the moments before the music started. _You’re Simon friggin’ Lewis, you got this._ He slides his hand down to wrap around Raphael’s.

“I’d really like to kiss you,” he says, and since Raphael is still frozen in place he gives their joined hands a little wiggle.

Raphael blinks, clears his throat, and his eyes dart from Simon’s lips, to the kitchen door, and back up to Simon’s eyes. Then, just as suddenly, he smirks.

“Well, then, let’s see what you’ve got.”

“You-” Simon does in fact lean down to peck him on the lips, “are insufferable,” another brush of lips, “this was probably your plan all along,” he moves a hand to Raphael’s neck, places another kiss to the corner of his mouth, “acting all irresistible.”

Raphael grabs the front of his shirt. “Dios, querido, not even kissing can shut you up.”

“It’s part of my charm.” Simon grins when Raphael rolls his eyes.

“We should go back to the dining room.”

“Okay, okay, just one second.” This time Simon lets his lips linger until Raphael’s hand unclenches from his shirt to rest flat against his chest. He sighs, and Raphael’s tongue flicks out against his upper lip before he pulls back.

Raphael’s smile is brighter than the sun. Simon thinks it’s enough to keep him warm for an eternity.


End file.
